


Ne pas appeler la police

by theraccoonloon



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Nicole is a coppa, Waverly is a struggling uni student with a part time job and a crush, Wynonna is a PI, Xavier Dolls is himself, and i believe in her, stephanie nedley is also here, they also live in a city now, this is in english ignore the fucking title
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-10 06:27:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7833850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theraccoonloon/pseuds/theraccoonloon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Waverly is living a rough life, between work, school, a sister, and a crush. It's probably going to end her. Of course, if her little white lie doesn't first</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It’s a funny thing to have a lot of things on your mind but no clue to say it, Waverly thinks with her ever growing cotton mouth. She had not-so-literally run into one tall redheaded cop exactly seventeen times in the past month. The cop seems to have a deep appreciation for both Waverly’s favorite biking trail and Waverly’s current place of work, a small coffee shop in the downtown. Everyday, she’d come into the shop and Waverly would suddenly feel the urge to do something in the back. Crouched next to a cardboard box of coffee creamer, Waverly gently smashes her head into the counter as she hears the cop leave the shop with her morning cup of hot tea in hand.

Crushes are the worst.

“She’s gone, Waverly. You can come out, now.” Chrissy says over her shoulder as she prepares the next costumer’s drink.

“I wasn’t in the back because of her.” Waverly says, grabbing the nearest box. “I was grabbing” she sets the box down on the counter next to Chrissy and looks inside “more emergency first aid kits.” 

Chrissy leans in to look into the box as she opens the till and puts a customer’s cash in. “We have those? They would’ve been great last week when you pouring coffee on your hand when the redhead laughed at the name of our pastries.” She points at the tiny ticket with the customer’s order. Waverly takes it and wraps it around a plastic cup.

“It was just, so quiet, I wasn’t expected a sudden increase in noise.” Waverly says in a definitely-not-defensive tone as she gets to work making the drink.

“We had three teenage boys drinking red eyes in the booth behind her.”

Waverly gives the customer a strained smile as she hands them their drink.

“You know, I could give her your number. I could write it on her cup. I think she wouldn’t mind.”

“No!” Waverly blurts out just a little too frantically. “I mean, no. It’s fine, I’ve got it. I am Waverly Earp and Waverly Earp is smooth.”

“Yeah, smooth like a sled made of sandpaper going down a gravel hill.”

Waverly rolls her eyes. “Listen, I got this. Just you wait.”  
“I am so excited.”

And so the day trudged on. Waverly poured cup of coffee after cup of coffee and glanced out the window for a certain redhead coming in to get her second cup of the day. The redhead never showed up and after some time, Waverly relaxed. She got off work and waved goodbye to Gus and got ready to go on her bi-daily bicycle ride.

Because fitness is important. Yeah, that’s it.

Waverly strapped on her bike gloves and knocked on her helmet a few times. Nice and secure. She lowers the seat and raises the seat trying to figure which would give her the best posture. Waverly checks the chain and goes through every inspection possible because this bike ride would go great because she is great and she is smooth.

So, she sets off down the gravelly trail. She grips onto the handle bars for all her life’s worth. It was a pretty trail if you ignored how unsafe it is. The trees are tall and green. The grass is a pale yellow that waved next to the raised path. There was the occasional small bridge over the occasional small rushing river or babbling brooke. The birds chirp and the bugs buzz making a beautiful symphony of nature’s sound. Waverly takes a deep inhale of delicious sweet air and feels at one with the nature and the beauty-

-Holy fuck, the pretty redhead. Waverly can see her about to turn the corner. Quick, she’ll see you, Waverly’s brain screams at her.

Waverly swerves her bike off the raised path and into the overgrown itchy grass. She thinks of scrambling away or getting up and getting back on the path, but if Waverly acknowledges that she’s alive then it might make the redhead stop and Waverly has still not completely planned out how to even introduce herself to the officer. With that in mind, Waverly hides there until she hears the officer past by.

“Yeah, sure, that was the cleverest option to take. I could’ve calmly rode by like a normal person, but no.” Waverly grumbles as she tosses her bike up onto the path and begins yanking tall grass out of the spokes. She notices a small business card on the path that definitely wasn’t there before. She picks it up, it looks like it’s been folded and fiddled with over and and over from the worn edges and the lines cracked through it. Waverly slips it into her pocket, she’ll find a way to get it to, she looks at the card and finally learns the redhead’s last name, “Nicole Haught.”

She hops back on her bike and begins the trek home, murmuring Nicole Haught over and over under her breath, trying to think of the perfect way to hand over the card. After a bit, Waverly realized it was unusual to return a business card and begins to rescheme ways to subtly return the business card.

“Waverly,” Her sister calls out the second she steps through the doors. “We’re out of fruity pebbles.”

Waverly drops her bags onto the counter. “I just bought a box yesterday.” She plops down onto the couch next to her sister.

“Yeah, but when I was drunk, this really hot guy and I tried to see what our toilet could flush after that one youtube channel we watched. We used fruity pebbles cause colors and he was, like, super high.”

Waverly plunks herself down next to her sister, who is slowly deeply slouched into the couch, she looks like she’s boneless and trying to mold into a singular being with the piece of furniture. Wynonna chuckles as the next graphic death flashes on screen. Waverly silently pulls out the business card and fiddles with it mutedly.

Wynonna perks up a little. “Did you get a job offer for a job? You’re not even done school, and since I’m older, it's my responsibility to force you to stay in school.” She says, craning her neck to see what’s on the card.

“Wynonna, you dropped out of high school when I was still in middle school.”

“It’s not my fault that I was destined for grander things.”

“You’re currently hungover and watching 1000 Ways To Die.”

“But I’m also like a real life Jessica Jones, minus the super strength and the bullet proof boyfriend.”

“You’ve got the alcoholism and tragic backstory to boot.”

“Aren’t you proud of me?” Wynonna says in a sweet, sarcastic voice, before frowning. “We’ve gotten off-topic. What’s with the card, before I super-sleuth it out of you.”

Waverly passes it over to her sister. Wynonna reads it.  
“Nicole Haught? She’s the tall rookie at the station, isn’t she? Why do you have her card? Oh my god, you got robbed. That’s why you’re so tired.”

Wynonna looks at her sister like she crazy before snatching the card back. “No, I went on a bike ride.” She looks her sister over. “You’re shit at your job.”

Wynonna shrugs. “So, why the card- wait, is that the officer you hide from at the coffee shop?”

“Why do you know about that?” Waverly straightens up.

“I talked to your co-worker because you seemed more love-sick then usual and I’m pretty sure you neutered Champ out of your life.”

“Why do you have their numbers?”

Wynonna sighs. “Because I’m a PI, Waverly.” she winks. “Also, I slept with one of them that one time, and they are such a blabber-mouth.”

Waverly nods, of course she slept with one of her co-workers. “Wait, which one?”

Wynonna rolls her eyes. “A PI never reveals their sources, Waves.”

“That’s not even a saying!” Waverly throws her hands in the air and gets off the couch.

Wynonna squirms in her seat. “Yes, it is! How would you know? You’re still in uni!” Wynonna shouts at her sister's back.

Waverly shuts the door behind her.

“Yeah well, fuck you too.” Wynonna mutters to herself. “Goodnight, babygirl.” Wynonna shouts after a couple seconds.

The door opens a crack. “Goodnight, Wynonna. Stay hydrated.”

________________________________________________________________

“I think you should wear that one bra that makes your boobs look fucking mint-grade quality lumps of fat.” Wynonna says, leaning against the doorframe. Waverly jumps at the intrusion. “We live in a one bedroom apartment where you have the one bedroom. You’d think you’d be used to this.”

“It’s all going under the shops uniform and an apron anyways. Besides, you’re up early, of course I jumped.”

“Yeah, but Officer Haught’s, like,” Wynonna holds her hand high above her head, “tall. and you’re not. So, maybe she can glimpse down and see your boobies in top condition.”

Waverly pushes a dresser drawer shut. “Let me make a correction on my previous statement, you’re drunk early.”

“I was investigating. He’s cheating on her with her brother. Kinda lame, I want, like, a murder mystery novel investigation. I want to solve who’s hand was found in the baker’s cranberry pie filling, and not in like a ‘who was sneaking nibbles’ way. Oh, man, I should totally talk to Dolls.”

Waverly begins slowly closing the door on her sister. “Okay, you do that. I’m going to get dressed on my own, without your help, like I’ve been doing since I was seven.” She takes a deep breath after the door clicks shut. She pauses a moment before grabbing the bra Wynonna was referring to and putting it on. She stuffs her outfit for the day in her backpack along with some workout clothes. She throws on her uniform last, unflattering black slacks and all.

Wynonna begins yanking her blankets and pillow off of the couch and lazily stuffing them under the coffee table as Waverly begins filling a bowl with the corned beef hash that’s been sitting on the stove in a pan for the past two days. Waverly pours a bowl of cereal for herself and hands Wynonna her bowl as she chews through a mouthful of bran.

“You eat like an old man who denies his age and is on a dragon boat team.” Wynonna says, scarfing down the cold food.

“You eat like a frat boy.” Waverly retorts. “Plus, it's healthy.” Waverly knocks back the rest of the remnant of her bowl. “See you eventually and please, remember to drink water. I have work and school today and tomorrow, so I can’t really nurse you through your hangover.” Wynonna waves her sister off. “Okay, I love you, bye.” Waverly calls as she shuts the door behind her before biking to work.

“Go get ‘em, tiger.” Wynonna calls after her. 

Waverly locks her bike up on the bike rack behind the shop, as per usual, and begins unsnapping her helmet and taking off her knee pads as she awkwardly waddles into the shop.

“Wow, right on time as per usual, Waverly. We could set our clocks to you.” Stephanie says, arm crossed, staring at the clock. “You’re on cash today, by the way.”

Waverly dumps all her protection gear onto the counter and pulls her apron off its hook and begins following Stephanie outfront. “Sure, but how come?”

Stephanie shrugs and swats Waverly’s hands away from the knot her friend is trying to tie at the back of neck. Stephanie swiftly ties the knot. “Because I worked cash yesterday and if you’re on cash and I act obstinate enough, you’ll totally have to chat with your lady.”

Waverly shoots a short glare at her friend before getting behind cash and warmly smiling at the tired teen waiting at the cash. “Hello, what would you like today?” 

The boy looks like he is absolutely surprised at being talked to for a moment before quietly mumbling his order. Stephanie gets to work making his beverage and Waverly quickly grabs his muffin and places it in the shop’s pastel blue paper bags. “Have a nice day.” She says as Stephanie hands her his drink and Waverly passes it over.

“Yes, I mean, you too.” He answers, before making the expression of somebody clearly inwardly scolding themselves.

Stephanie rolls her eyes. “I hate how much people like you. This is why I usually handle cash.” 

“I’m just friendly. It’s the classic smile and wave, Steph.” Waverly says before taking the next order. Steph rolls her eyes and mumbles something under her breath that Waverly chooses to ignore for the sake of their friendship.

An hour or two passes before Dolls, breathing heavily, steps into the shop. He walks up to the counter. “Waverly-”

“-I have to stop you right there, you just cut in line and I only speak to serving customers.” She turns to the older lady at the cash. “Sorry about him, ma’am.” She apologizes before taking her order.

As soon as the lady is gone, the only person in line, Dolls begins speaking, panting less than before. “Your sister came into my office, looked at my notes on my latest case, said ‘ fucking sick’ and went this way because she needs ‘some wheels, bro.’ What do you know about this?” Waverly lifts her brows. “Give me the strongest thing you’ve got.”

“Well, that certainly sounds like my sister.” It’s Dolls’ turns to lift his eyebrows. Waverly talks louder as she walks to the backroom. “She probably came for my bicycle.” Dolls looks at the sky, his face a plea for an divine being to strike him down. “You should really catch her. My bike helmet is in here and she doesn’t one.” Waverly continues before walking back outfront, she takes Dolls’ coffee from Steph before hand it to him with her helmet. 

Dolls takes a deep drink from his cup the second it touches his hand.

“Either put this on her, or fine her as an excuse to take her into the station, or both. Either way, I want her to be safe. Got it, special agent Xavier Dolls? I don’t think the higher ups would like a girl getting injured while working your case.” Waverly continues in an airy, yet threatening voice.

“Officer Dolls.” A surprised voice voice calls out. “I didn’t know you get your coffee here.”

Dolls turns around, straight face. “This information is none of your business, Officer Haught,” He says neutrally.

Nicole Haught watches him storm past her with a interesting level of calmness. She begins to mosey on up to the cash, head still turned to watch Dolls thunder out of the shop. She turns her head and look at Waverly. Her eyes widen a little before she sets her shoulders ever so slightly. “I’d like a cappuccino.” She says confidently.

“Yeah, sure, of course.” She turns to look at Steph who makes every subtle gesture that means ‘go for it’ she can. Waverly turns back around. Nicole is leaning on the counter almost imperceptibly as she opens her wallet and flips through for a bill.  
Waverly shifts her weight back and forth awkwardly. Nicole straightens up and hands the bill and exact change over. “Here you go,” she narrows her eyes to read Waverly’s name tag, “Waverly.”

Waverly takes the bill silently and shoves it into the till. Stephanie hands her Nicole’s cappuccino with the strong waves of disapproval radiating off of her. Waverly takes it and places it on the counter in front of her. “There you go, Officer Haught.”

Nicole takes it and nods. She lingers for a moment before leaving.

The second the door begins to shut behind Nicole, Stephanie hits Waverly over the head. “You idiot.” Waverly begins to make a noise in pain. “Nope, shut up, I am going to run this whole damn shop and you are going to leave, make nice with that officer, or so help me god.” She begins shoving Waverly out from behind counter.

“I can’t. What would I say?”

“I don’t give a single shit.” Steph says with one last shove.

Waverly begins to leave the store in a trance of pure fear. The door chiming shut behind her sounds like the bell tolling her death. She can see the redhead, staring down at her cup pensively, standing on the curb next to her cop car. Waverly puts her hand into her pocket. She can feel the card. She walks dumbly forward.

The cop notices her “Hello, Waverly. Do you need anything?”

“Yes.” Waverly says a little too quickly.

Nicole pulls her notepad out of her pocket. “Okay, what’s the problem?”

Holy shit, she thinks I’m here to report a crime, Waverly thinks. She takes a deep breath, clear stratagem in mind. She’s going to correct Nicole as nicely as possible and say that there wasn’t a crime, except for the officer stealing her heart- no, not that, definitely not that. Waverly is going to say that there was no crime and that she dropped her card and she was just returning it, and maybe strike up small talk. You know, a small victory. 

“Well, Officer, you dropped your card.” Waverly says, pulling the card out of her pocket and holding it out. Nicole takes the card, looking surprised then like something just made a sudden amount of sense. She looks up at Waverly with a smile. Waverly’s brains short-circuit. “And it must’ve been an act of divine intervention, because my bicycle has been stolen.”

Goddammit.


	2. Liar, Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet new people, make new friends, feel guilty over lying to the police which is illegal, probably- Wynonna Earp 2k-i-dunno-at-some-point-probably

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For someone who writes fanfic i am shit at writing flirting- Me, saying something that you, my beloved reader, probably agrees with

Steam wafts from the open lid of Nicole’s cappuchino. The white air curls and coils like a snake as they stand in the small back alley behind the shop. Nicole scrunches her nose and takes a deep drink from her cup. See, the back alley contained the small shop’s dumpster. The coffee shop only ever threw out the occasional coffee grind or rock hard, dried out, pastry. Other then that, it was mostly odorless plastics and garbage that were tossed into the bin, so one could assume that there would be minimal stink from the dumpster.

Except that the coffee shop was right next to a ‘urban’’ pub that created it’s own craft beer and sausages. They were constantly throwing leftover liver and giblets in, not to mention the occasional drunk man who stumbled out at night and, oh so courteously, upchucked into the giant metal garbage can. 

Thank god on the other side of the cafe was a yoga studio. The smelliest thing they threw out was herbs and plants that had burned just a little too much.

Waverly coughs to cover her gag. The smell of just beginning to rot meat and it’s best friend, moldy onions, was beginning to get to her. Not really the first place she imagined taking Nicole. She had no choice, this is where the bike rack was.

Nicole lowers the drink from her mouth and grimaces at the dark liquid. She puts the lid back on and places the cup at her feet. She reopens her notepad and clicks her pen. “Alright, miss Earp, could you please tell me what transpired?” She asks, scratching a few words onto her notepad. She looks up at Waverly with bright eyes and a welcoming smile.

Waverly nods absently for a moment, before jumping to life. “Transpired, right. I parked my bike here, chained it up, went inside. I only noticed when I went outside to toss some garbage. Just gone, poof. Luckily I saw your card on the ground, it was like fate.” Waverly rocks nervously on her toes. 

Nicole frowns, ever so slightly, at her notepad, writing down a few more things. “Were you here to open the shop?”

“No, Chrissy, my coworker, opened. I show up about ten minutes after opening.” 

“So, the bike went missing some time between 6:40 and-” Nicole looks at the leather watch on her wrist. “9:26AM?”

Waverly nods. “Aren’t you going to late for work? This is just a missing bike, it’s fine to put this on the back burner if you don’t want to get in trouble with your boss. I have my first class of the day at ten o’clock anyways.”

Nicole looks at Waverly curiously, closing her notepad. “This is my work. Doing this means that I am at work, right now. I’m going to try to figure out who’s a suspect with reason to take your bike. Employees from shops on either side are definitely suspicious.” Nicole taps her pen against her notepad, biting her lip slightly. “Mind telling what kind of bicycle you have, if you know? Knowing how much it might sell for might help.”

“Marin Fairfax SC6 DLX. That’s my city bike, which is the bike I ride here, to the city.” Waverly stumbles over her words like a blind puppy.

Nicole whistles. “A bicycle like that sells for almost 2,500. You must really like biking.” She says as she writes a little more.

Waverly shrugs. “Driving cars makes me a bit nervous, plus exercise. The money is really worth it in the long run. I could’ve bought a second-hand car for the same price and I’d still have to spend money on gas. All a bike needs is for me turn the tires and grease the chains.”

Nicole smiles and nods. “I feel you. I bike a lot too.”

Waverly lifts her brows in mock surprise. “Really? I did not know.” She fibs.

Nicole smiles, dimples on display. “If your bike is your only mode of transportation, I’d be glad to drop you off in my police car. If you’re done work, that is.”

Waverly nods. “Yeah, of course, great. Let me just drop off my apron.”

When the bell rings as the door open it sounds more like a funeral chime then normal. Waverly swallows her courage and walks in. Nicole gently closes the door behind them and follows her in quietly.

“Oh, you’re back.” Chrissy says in flippant tone. Her uniform is bunched up at the elbows as she wipes the counter up and down after morning rush. A few elderly folk litter the cafe, filling it with a rolling chatter. Chrissy picks the rag up and plops it back down with a wet splat before continuing her methodical scrubbing. 

Waverly rings her hands nervously before slowly tugging the rag away from Chrissy. “I’m getting a ride from Officer Haught.” Waverly keeps her voice low. She gently, stiffly, pats Chrissy’s hand.

Chrissy looks Waverly up and down. “Really, eh?” Chrissy gives her a quick wink and a broad grin. “What a natural you are.”

“Naturally unlucky.” Waverly jams the sentence into the conversation before anything can happen. Chrissy raises her eyebrows and leans away from her friend as if Waverly was actually demented.

“Yes, I agreed to investigate Miss Earp’s missing bike problem. I’m going to drive her to class because of her lack of a ride.” Nicole says smoothly, leaning her elbows onto the damp counter.

“Huh, alright, do you want your usual tea then, Officer Haught?” Chrissy says, yanking the cloth away from Waverly. “It would be the least we could do. I noticed you got a cappuccino this morning. It would only be a moment to get your regular.”

Nicole perks up, pulls her body away from the counter. “Thank you, but I’m going to pass. I needed the caffeine today.” She tips her black cop hat. The brim shining of the peaked cap, even the badge glints brightly in the light. “Actually, it would be a real favor to allow me interview you or even look at the security cameras for the store.”

Chrissy sends Waverly an unamused grin. “The cameras in the interior and exterior of the store are a tangled web of lies.” She says flatly, without a single lie. “But, I’m down for that chat.” She says and disappears to the back room. Waverly follows her friend’s retreating form before laughing awkwardly. 

“What Chrissy means is that the cameras don’t actually work, per se, we just keep them up because it makes people second guess their criminal activity, it’s why they are placed in such notable places.” Waverly fills in quickly. Nicole gives her a confused look. “The insurance on this place is pretty high regardless.” Waverly answers what she hopes is Nicole’s unasked question. She reaches behind her neck as she talks, loosening up the knot of the apron. Her hair is yanked painfully when she tries lift it over her hair, caught in… some part of the apron.

“Let me help you.” Nicole says. Her fingers working swiftly through the other knot of her apron in the middle of Waverly’s back. Nicole’s left hand gently holds the knot of Waverly’s hair to keep it still so it won’t tug while Nicole’s right hand quickly amends the problem. She gently and slowly lifts it over Waverly’s head with a soft, “There ya go.”

“Thank you.” Waverly takes the apron from Nicole’s loose grasp on the fabric. She drapes it over the counter before repeating herself. “Thank you very much.”

They stare for a moment in the warmth and the glow of the coffee shop. Nicole’s gentle actions warm Waverly’s core like a hot cocoa on a winter’s night, so she does what anyways does when they are genuinely happy and genuinely smiles. The world fades away, turning into the background static of an out of tune radio and the room is filled with just each other and an honest smile.

The officer drops eye contact with a curt nod. Nicole flips her notepad back open and reviews her notes one last time, muttering to herself. “Bike theft at Shorty’s coffee shop… sometime between 6:40 and 9:26AM…” She taps her pen against the paper a few times before writing down a few more things and snapping the notepad shut. “Okay, Miss Earp, I’m ready to take you to campus.” She puts the pad of paper away with her pen and straightens up, hand on her belt. Her movements are heavy with nerves, each gesture is tight and short and just a little… off. A customer shoulders past them to stand in the empty queue in front of the cash register.

Chrissy emerges, her hair a bit messier than when she left. She smiles and greets the man in the suit. He says something to her and she taps the chalkboard of specials hanging above her head. Chrissy doesn’t take her eyes off the man and nods, smiling, and answers his questions while she slides Waverly’s backpack across the counter.

“Please, call me Waverly.” She tugs her pack over her shoulder

Nicole clears her throat. “Let us go then, Waverly.” she says, gesturing towards the door.

Chrissy holds up a finger to the suited man before leaning forward over the counter. “I’d tell you not to get kidnapped on your way to school but your drive is someone with a license to carry!” Chrissy calls out to them, a tad too loudly. Nicole ducks her head and leaves the shop, holding open the door for Waverly. 

Waverly follows Nicole out of the shop. Nicole shortens her long steps so Waverly can keep up. The heels of Nicole’s heavy boots make an audible tap with each step. It’s the tail end of morning rush, so the streets aren’t as flooded with an ocean of cars and people. It’s late in the year, the weather at last getting a bit of its cool bite, Waverly thinks as a puff of her breath comes out as as white and fluffy as a cotton ball. 

Nicole looks both ways before opening the driver side door and plunking herself inside. She lets out a deep sigh and takes her hat off and places it on the dash. The police officer runs a hand over the top of her head and scratches right above her bun. Waverly gently raps her knuckles on the window of the passenger seat. Nicole perks up and quickly unlocks so Waverly can get inside.

“Where to?” Nicole asks as Waverly clicks in her seat belt.

“Officer Haught, there is only one university nearby.”

“You could be going to the community college.” Nicole says, turning the key. The police car rumbles to life and Nicole pulls out into traffic. 

“My sister would never let me.” Waverly puts her backpack between her feet.

Nicole chuckles, eyes never leaving the road. “What’s your major?”

“History, actually. You’re done with school, right?”

“Graduated from the police academy over a year ago.”

“I dated a boy who tried to get in, they never actually let him through the front doors.”

“That’s a shame.” Nicole taps her fingers on the steering wheel, voice wistful. Waverly shifts uncomfortably in her seat, air thick with unspoken words. Every nerve is ablaze in the car. The close proximity to Waverly’s dream girl makes her throat tight and her palms sweat and it feels like it’s just hitting her that she is sitting in a car with the cop. It hits her like a battering ram to the chest and Waverly does everything possible not to react as they cruise through the streets.

Nicole fiddles with the black box on her dash for a few seconds while they sit at a red light. The only noise cutting through the heavy quiet. With a buzz, voices begin to tumble from its speakers. Numbers and confirmation echo through the car’s chastise. Nicole tilts her head ever so slightly when something interesting comes from the police radio. Her eyes never flicker from the road. And Waverly? Waverly watches Nicole.

She watches the way Nicole constantly adjusts her grip on the steering wheel, how Nicole’s seat is just a tad uncomfortably too far forward. She watches the light catch on the light layer of gel on her hair. She counts bobby pins and eyelashes. She studies Nicole like a rare item, like something treasured and belonging in a museum. Her hands fidget in her lap to flatten the wisp of hair at the back of the officer’s neck. She watches those precious few strands dance in the light like the waving limbs of a fire.

And watching the hair dance, and Nicole’s infinite focus on the road ahead. Something in Waverly lurches, it echoes over and over in her mind. A growing crescendo.

You lied. You lied. You lied. You lied.

Waverly considers it for a moment. She debates honesty. She ponders on saying that the bike isn’t truthfully missing and dealing with what comes after. After all, isn’t honesty better than making every moment spent with her feeling like she’s going to get caught with her hand in the cookie jar? All she has to do is open her mouth and say a few words. A simple task. Waverly is an Earp, she’s done much more difficult things. 

So, she opens her mouth, braces herself for honesty. She feels her insides dance and shimmy and try to escape her body, only to be wrangled and kept in place by her moral compass. And when, at last, she speaks, all that comes out is

“You left your cappuchino out at the dumpster.”

Nicole finally tears her eyes from the road. She lets out a small, real, laugh and says. “I did, it’s fine.”

Waverly curses herself so much that even a sailor would blush and a witch would write notes in her spell book. 

Nicole looks back to the road. “It’s nothing to stress about.” She says, reading Waverly’s reaction wrong. Answering a question that was never asked. “Besides,” Nicole shifts the car into park. “We’re at your school anyways.”

Waverly looks out the window to the university campus. Her hand slides her phone out of her pocket and she looks at her screen. She has time, something that rarely anyone has, she could tell Nicole about her lie. She has an opportunity, something precious and fragile and oh so worth seizing.

She doesn’t  
She thanks Nicole and leaves the car, jaw tight with honesty. 

Right before she can close the door, Nicole smiles. “I’ll continue to look into this. Study well, okay? This is nothing to worry about.” She tells Waverly. And the door shuts. Waverly tries to out-walk the voices that all seem to be calling her a coward.

Her classmate calls out to her “Hey, you arrived in a cop car, that’s pretty cool.”

“Steven, shut it. Just, shhh.” Waverly says as she tugs the door open to the building.

~~~~~~~~~~

Steven later gives her a ride back to work. She waves him off as his car sputters and shutters its way down the street. He drops her off a few shops off, but Waverly doesn’t mind a brisk walk through the cool air to wake her up from that boring last class of the day. 

Except she sees a certain officer in her full black uniform conversing animatedly with a small elderly woman. They definitely clash. Nicole stands tall, all youthful muscle. The old lady is already bending under the weight of her own age. Nicole is dressed in her uniform, black short sleeve dress shirt with the top button casually undone. Her radio is clipped onto her front and her badges on her hat and shirt glint in the sun. The splash of color from the patches on her shoulder are bright with color. Her utility belt is heavy with belongings and she holds herself in a way that only someone who respects the clothes they're in can. 

The old lady is dressed in a red fleece coat, it’s a size or two too big and dwarfs her. She wears exercise pants from the wrong decade and beaten up sneakers. She has a bag on her arm and a poorly knitted scarf around her neck, what is most peculiar is the smudge of blue and smudge of green on her shoulder. Two small budgies sit on her right shoulder, chirping and whistling happily. They’re so loud that Waverly can hear them from where she is.

Nicole looks up from her notepad and her conversation with the small woman. She waves to Waverly as Waverly nears closer. Once Waverly is within conversation distance Nicole begins to introduce her companion. “Waverly, this is-” Nicole stops short, not actually knowing the woman’s name.

“-An old lady,” The old woman interjects. “But don’t worry I don’t bite.”

“She was around here during the times of your bike disappearing, so I was taking down notes on what she’s seen.” Nicole explains as Waverly nods.

“I’ll tell you what I was telling your police friend here.” the old lady says to Waverly. “I was feeding my favorite pigeon, Macbeth. I named him that because once he pooped on this awful man I was talking to and the man just went and died a day later.” She pats her canvas bag. It has a picture of a drawn pigeon being fed by a woman, much like the old lady, sitting on a bench, and the words “Al-bread-y friends.”

“What did you see, though?”

“I saw this little boy, one of those teenager types. He walked right past me, scaring Macbeth away, who is a very sensible pigeon so you know he left because he sensed the boy was quite the rascal. I saw him go behind the coffee shop. I didn’t watch him after that, I was worried if Macbeth had injured himself while flying away, because he sure did fly out of there in a jiffy.” the old lady continues in her shaky, old person voice, occasionally getting distracted by her birds as she talked.

“She thinks he took your bike.” Nicole elaborates.

“Oh, excellent.” Waverly says before bursting with a question. “Who’s that on your shoulder?”

The elderly woman’s eyes light up. She taps the head of the blue bird. “This is Ford, he’s a budgie. I named him after the truck that hit and killed my second husband. Tragically, it was illegal for me to have married a pretty lady like yourselves back then, but it was quite rewarding to receive all that money after he died.”

Nicole’s eyebrows disappear further and further into her hairline with each word that leave the old woman’s mouth.

“And this is my precious little rose-ringed parakeet.” She says as the green bird lets out a whistle. “She whistles such a lovely tune; the same one played at my fourth husband’s funeral and my wedding to my fifth husband. The two events were so close that some things carried from one occasion to the other and they were both such joyous occasions. Both such lucrative events.” She smiles and coos at the birds for a moment before continuing “I’m taking them out on a date. They love looking at all the pigeons. I think it makes them happy to be blue and green.” 

Nicole clears her throat and shakes her head a tad bit. Waverly closes her eyes and rubs them, lest her eyes fall from her skull. “Well, thank you, ma’am. This will be very helpful for my investigation.”

The old woman’s cups Nicole’s hands in her own. Nicole tries to say something as her pen and notepad get caught in the grasp and the paper crinkles. “Anytime, dearie. You are such fun to talk to. I can tell you more about some of the deviants that wander these streets and disturb the poor birds. In fact, I’ll stop in the station later today if I see those young kids tossing stones at some of the beautiful pigeons that wander these streets, again. I can even help you purchase your own bird. You really should, wonderful lifelong friends. Better than husbands.”

Nicole nods stiffly. “I am good on both fronts. Both bird and husband. I am very loyal to my cat.”

She looks Nicole up and down like she just found out that the soldier that had been fighting side by side with her in the trenches turned out to the be in cahoots with the enemy. She lets go of Nicole’s hands and simply says. “Come see me when the cat dies then. I’ll wait.” before wandering away, chatting happily to her birds.

Nicole looks apologetically at Waverly. “I’d love to stay longer and speak with you, I really do, but the station needs me elsewhere. If I can, I’ll drop in later. I promise you that I will work this whenever I can.”

“I really don’t need to be a priority like this.”  
Nicole shrugs. “I joined the police to serve the public and it’s a joy to serve you, Waverly Earp. I’ll see you tomorrow, and if you could let me cheat and break a rule and give you my order ahead of time. I’d like a hot cup of tea when I come in tomorrow, please. Whatever flavor you think is best.” Nicole looks proud as she smiles down at Waverly.

“Got it, I will have it warm and waiting for you when you step through the doors.”

Nicole tips her hat. “Much obliged.” she turns on her heel in a military precise pivot and climbs into her police cruiser with a small wave to Waverly.

Waverly watches Nicole drive away in a vague dumbfounded. She walks through the back door of the shop and pulls on an apron. Chrissy immediately pulls Waverly into a tight hug.

“I am so proud of you. I never thought you, my sweet child, would ever become a deviant and lie to an officer of the law just to get some booty, but here you are and I love you.”

“Chrissy, let go of me. I might actually throw up.”

“Let mama hold you for one more second.”

“Don’t refer to yourself as mama.”

Chrissy pulls back, hands still on Waverly’s shoulders. “Because soon you’ll be calling officer haughtie that?”

Waverly twists out of Chrissy’s grasp and sends her a disgusted face before heading out behind the counter and taking an order. The two friends fall into their easy tandem for the remainder of the night and Waverly’s guilt quiets to a soft murmur as she busies herself.

The first thing she does when she gets home is dial Wynonna. The phone rings once, twice, three times before Wynonna picks up. She sounds vaguely drunk and very out of breath, Waverly thinks from where she’s slumped into the couch in their shared apartment.

“Hullo, my precious baby sister.” Wynonna yells into the phone.

“Wynonna, I need a fake ID and tickets out of the country.” Waverly gets straight to the point.

“I hear you and sure, yeah, of course. No problem, I’ll get right on that. As a PI I am awfully curious, however, so what exactly do you need that for?”

“I lied to police officer.”

“Waverly lied to a coppa?” Wynonna screams into the phone.

“Not so loud.”

“What did you say though? I thought we agreed that when I break the law that you should throw me under the bus and say nothing but the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”

“I lied for me.”

“That is even more surprising than the fact that that you lied to the police.”

“Chrissy made me talk to Officer Haught and I panicked and told her my bike was missing.”

“I have your bike, though. I also have Special Agent Dolls, which, thanks for that.” Wynonna says sarcastically as she stuffs her face with chips. “I’ll deal with the mess you made the best I can from my end, but as your legal guardian I am going to nix the fake ID and get away. It’s important to learn life lessons. The one here is, I dunno, when you do something bad, don’t get caught.”

“Wynonna, I’m too old to have a legal guardian.”

“I’m sorry? I head none of that, Dolls just came back with food for a stakeout.”

“Stakeout? With Dolls? What did you get yourself into.”

Wynonna makes a guttural noise of pure excitement. “This dude is so hardcore. We got a bunch of corpses that died of suffocation slash drowning, both are correct. But when we emptied their lungs. We found liquid cocaine, which is a mixture of kerosene and cocaine, by the way. This dude kills people who fuck up in his organization by smothering them in a large bowl of liquid cocaine.” Wynonna talks faster with each juicy detail.

“All of that way mind boggling.”

Wynonna makes a strange moan. “I’m going to put away a drug cartel hitman who kills people with liquid coke and gold razor wire. Dolls found a barrel of bleach and other drug friendly chemicals with a corpse inside. We think our suspect drowned him there.”

“Most people don’t get as excited about homicide as you.”

“Hey, I’m not judging you for your- holy shit.”

“Wynonna?”

“A large man who works for suspect is approaching where we set up shop with a large gun.”

“Wynonna, I really-”

Gunfire rings through the phone's speakers. “-Sorry, Waverly. Gotta destroy the phone now. I’ll call you. Love you, gotta shoot things now. Okay, righto, buh-bye.” Wynonna shouts at the phone. Waverly hears the phone being smashed before the call disconnects.

“Well, I feel worse now then what I did before.” Waverly says to an empty room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who have read my other story (These walls) there should be some.... difference in the writing styles. I swear I write both fics. It's just that I really look up to some writing styles and I'm trying to integrate bits of that into my own writing. 
> 
> Also, an answer to a question nobody asked, the writing is going to seem more serious in this, another answer to another non-existent question, the reason is that I am a lover of irony and I really enjoy when the writing style conflicts with content. Like Series of Unfortunate Events deals with some dark shit, but it's written in such a playfully dark and nonsensical manor that is becomes humorous. Which is why my story about being in love with a dead person and fucked with by a witch is so light-hearted and a stupid romcom plot like lying about a stolen bicycle to a cop is going to be a tad heavier
> 
> also my slowly developing writing style (and gradually improving english, one day I'll be a real girl) effects shit.
> 
> I'd like to thank 1000 ways to die for teaching me about creative death and cocaine
> 
> I'd like to thank sensitiver-pigeon (read her story Get Lost for true literary artistry) who is everything i want to be and then some, and I'm okay with you being a jillion years old
> 
> Also, goluckydanny, every time i see you icon on tumblr i remember to write
> 
> also thnks to my friend who gave me my tumblr blog unicornsarehaught.tumblr.com a decent amount of months back, ily
> 
> Most thanks to you dear reader for suffering through my bullshit and reading my writing which we both know is really meh and is mostly poor attempts at humor. Also thanks for waiting. I love you very much and appreciate you
> 
> ALSO I PROMISE ROMANCE STUFF HAPPENING NEXT CHAPTER ITS JUST SHIT IS AWKWARD RIGHT NOW AND DEVELOPMENT AND I'VE NEVER TOUCHED ANOTHER WOMAN'S ARM BEFORE WITHOUT FEELING LIKE I'M BEING RUDE AND INTRUDING ON HER EXISTENCE. IT'S CANADIAN POLITENESS I SWEAR

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you like it. My tumblr is unicornsarehaught.tumblr.com and my life-saving editor is sensitive-pigeon.tumblr.com


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